


It's a Date

by purajobot935



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comedy of Errors, First Date, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purajobot935/pseuds/purajobot935
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Epps asks Jazz for a very special favor, but Jazz ends up helping him out in ways unexpected</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Date

It’s A Date

Sergeant Epps could hardly believe his eyes when he finally reached the Autobot base and beheld the sight before him. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, then looked again, but no, it wasn’t a hallucination and neither was he dreaming. Which only meant that what he was looking at was in fact very real. 

Jazz, despite being the shorter of the pair, was carrying Bumblebee piggy-back style through the small field surrounding the warehouse that housed them as if it was no effort at all. After walking a few meters though, he seemed to tire, and bent forward without warning to dump Bumblebee on the grass. Seemingly indignant, Bumblebee sprang to his feet and charged at Jazz, only to have the white Solstice grab him in a light headlock and give him the robotic version of a noogie.

This move earned him a tackle and both mechs went tumbling, rolling around on the grass like a couple of puppies in a fierce tickle-battle, or so Epps supposed it was, judging by the high-pitched metallic squeals being emitted that sounded uncannily like laughter. 

It was highly surreal. He’d seen them in battle and they were two of the Autobots’ finest warriors despite their small size, and here they were… playing. If he hadn’t seen it, he would have never thought it possible.

“Hard to believe, eh?” Ironhide asked from behind him. “Never thought I’d see the day when they’d resort to all this again.”

Epps frowned a bit. Was that fondness in the old mech’s voice? “What? Them clowning around?”

Ironhide nodded. “Yeah. Used to drive Ratchet up the wall sometimes, but he loved to see them play just as much as I did.”

“Why do they do it?”

“Who knows? We certainly don’t, but we figure it’s their way of reaffirming their youth and the bonds they share.”

“Or they could be just goofing off and releasing too much pent-up energy,” Epps said. He strode forward again, determined to see through what he had come here to do as Ironhide veered off towards the base.

As the man neared, Jazz and Bumblebee ceased their romp through the grass and turned their heads in his direction. Bumblebee let out a chirp of a greeting while a smile bloomed on Jazz’s face.

“Yo Epps, m’man. Fancy seeing you here,” he said.

“Thrilled to see ya, too, Jazz,” Epps replied.

“What brings you here, Sergeant?” Bumblebee asked.

“Uh yea, about that. Jazz, can we talk?”

“Sure. Spill away.”

Clearly Bumblebee wasn’t getting the hint that he wanted to talk to Jazz alone, Epps thought to himself with a sigh. “Its more of a personal favor.”

Both mechs looked at each other, then back at him a little warily as they stretched out side-by-side on their fronts.

“Its not what you think!” Epps quickly back-pedaled. “I have a date tonight and I need a nice-lookin’ car to make a good first impression, so I was wonderin’ if I could kinda borrow Jazz for the evening.”

Jazz’s smirk was practically evil-looking. “I don’t know, man. I kinda made plans for tonight, myself. I mean, it’s a Friday evening and no one really wants t’be alone during that time.”

“C’mon man, what plans could you possibly have?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Bumblebee giggled, earning himself a dirty look from the man.

“Look, what if I said I’d make it worth your while?”

“You mean like a deal?” Bumblebee asked.

Epps sighed. “Yes, like a deal.”

The yellow Camaro turned to Jazz and switched to Cybertronian speech. Jazz looked back at him in a good deal of amusement, and Epps couldn’t help but wonder how much merry hell these two terrors had given their commanding officers back on their home planet, and how they’d gotten away in functioning condition.

“Alright, I’ll take you on your date tonight,” Jazz finally conceded.

Epps felt his stomach sink. “And in return?” He already had a feeling he knew what was coming.

“We want your iPod and sound system next Saturday night,” Bumblebee said. “For a party.”

“Another party?”

“Hey man, its not like the two of us can happily stroll into your human nightclubs,” Jazz said. “So we gotta bring the party to us.”

He had a point, Epps figured. “I don’t think Optimus was particularly pleased with the last party you guys had here.”

“He’ll be out of town next weekend.” Bumblebee’s doors gave a little ‘flap’.

Epps knew he was well and truly beaten. “Fine.”

“So what time you want me t’pick you up?” Jazz asked.

“Be at my crib around 6.30. I told Suzanne I’d pick her up at 7.”

Bumblebee smirked at Jazz. “Guess we’d better get you cleaned up then.”

“Speak for yourself, Bee,” he replied.

Epps decided this was the right time to beat a hasty retreat.

IIIII

Jazz pulled up in front of Epps’ home at 6.35 that evening and found the man standing impatiently on the pavement.

“’Bout time you got here,” he told the Autobot as he got in behind the wheel. At least he was relieved to note that Jazz looked pristinely clean.

“Ever heard of bein’ fashionably late?” Jazz asked as he u-turned and peeled off the way he’d come.

“Ever heard of bein’ pulled over for speeding?” Epps asked clutching the steering wheel as Jazz’s seatbelt came over to secure him.

“Nope.”

“Whatever, now listen. You gotta let me drive you once we pick her up a’ight?”

“And how many cars like me have you driven before?”

“I can manage.”

“How about I make it look like you’re driving me?”

“Fine, but whatever you do, just don’t blow yer cover. This is important to me, man. We gotta work together on this. It’s the first date I’ve had since comin’ home and I don’t wanna blow this.”

“Fine, but no kinky stuff in the back seat.”

“You don’t even have a back seat, man. Now zip it. We’re here.”

Suzanne, or so Jazz surmised, wore a fairly low-cut red dress that left little to the imagination, and the smell of her perfume hit Jazz’s olfactory sensors a good three meters before he actually pulled up in front of her. While Epps got out of the car to greet her, he saw her give him a once-over.

“That’s quite a nice car you’ve got there,” she said. “But don’t you think the racing stripes look a little tacky?”

Jazz started to rev his engine in protest, but a quick kick to the front tyre from Epps silenced him. Oh he was so getting him a new pair of speakers for this.

“What can I say, baby? I like livin’ life in the fast lane,” Epps said.

Jazz would have rolled his optics if he was able. The couple got in and she slammed the passenger door just a little harder than necessary. Jazz winced and entertained the thought of throwing her out, but he really wanted to have that party next weekend and Bumblebee was looking forward to it, so he let her get away with it – for now.

Epps made a show of pretending to start the engine and pulling back out onto the road, and as they drove to the destination Epps had picked out for them, Jazz scrutinized the woman a little more. She was dark-skinned like Epps, and would probably be considered good-looking by human standards. Her hair resembled something of an afro and she had unusually bright green eyes – almost like emeralds. A quick – and invisible – scan however told Jazz that they were fake, and that under the artificial layer, her real lenses were a deep brown.

The couple made small talk that bored Jazz to proverbial tears and to keep himself occupied, he tried to mentally plan next weekend’s get-together and what he, Bee and Glen could to with the sound system. The sound of Suzanne trying to light up a cigarette brought his attention back to what was going on in his interior.

Hell no, he thought. She was not going to stink him up with that awful smoke. Reflexively his vents blew a strong gust of air that promptly extinguished the flame, and no matter how many times she tried to re-light, the flame refused to stay strong enough for her to touch it to the cigarette. Epps was glaring daggers at him, he was certain, but he didn’t care. A mech had to draw the line somewhere.

“Air-con vents need an overhaul,” the sergeant said. “They keep doing that, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” she replied, stuffing the pack and lighter back into her bag.

Rather harshly, Jazz noted. Clearly, it wasn’t fine with her at all. Another moment passed, after which she asked Epps to pull over, stating that she needed some water, and could he please make sure it was Evian because she had quite the delicate stomach and couldn’t take any other kind. Jazz gave a mental snort as he watched Epps spring out of the car to comply.

What she did next surprised him. Checking to make sure Epps was nowhere in sight, she popped open the glove compartment and began to rummage through the contents. Granted, Jazz kept very little in there since items could very easily get lost in his systems when he was in robot mode, but now and then one of the humans would leave something inside and forget to take it out.

Currently he knew he had a memory card courtesy of Glen, one of Mikaela’s hair-ties, a pack of rose-scented wet-wipes that belonged to Judy Witwicky, a blues CD Sam had lent him and a tube of Maggie’s lipstick. He saw her hold something up in triumph and groaned. Of COURSE Epps would have tossed his wallet in there, too.

Jazz definitely did not like the way Suzanne was rifling through its contents and eyeing the bills of money within, so with no other option left to him he worked his horn in short, but loud, bursts. The woman jumped, quickly dropped the wallet back in and shut the compartment just as Epps came running out with the bottle of water. She sat back in her seat as he popped open the door and got in. Jazz promptly shut off the horn.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know! It just suddenly came on by itself,” she replied. “This is a very strange car you have. Ever considered trading it in for a better model?”

Oh, this was war now, Jazz thought as he started his engine with an angry rumble.

“I have a cousin who wouldn’t mind buying this from you,” she was saying. “He usually takes them apart for spare parts and I’m sure this one would fetch you a good price.”

“Aw, no man, I couldn’t sell this,” Epps said. “Him and I, we’ve been through a lot together so we’re practically friends.”

Not for much longer, if she keeps this up, Jazz growled to himself. Thankfully, they had reached the restaurant by now and he gently rolled to a stop in the parking lot. 

“Why don’t you go on ahead and check on our reservation,” she told Epps. “I’ll join you in a minute, just need to touch up my make-up.” She made a show of adjusting the rear-view mirror.

And try to pilfer his wallet again, Jazz figured.

“Yeah sure,” Epps said, and shut his door, giving Jazz a little pat on the roof before heading into the eatery.

Sure enough, as soon as he was out of sight, Suzanne had the glove compartment open again and was reaching inside.

Touch his wallet again and I’ll break your fingers, bitch, Jazz thought as he promptly shut the compartment with a snap, nearly catching her fingers in it, and no amount of tugging could get it open again. She cursed and swore at him to no avail, till finally she gave up and proceeded to get out of the car.

“Stupid piece of junk,” she hissed as she slammed the door shut with a bang again.

Jazz held back another wince, his entire right side stinging. Sure, he had completely recovered from the Mission City incident, but that didn’t mean he still didn’t get sore at the slightest mis-handling. Even during play with Bumblebee, the yellow Camaro was always careful not to get too physically rough with him lest he damage a slowly strengthening system or the other.

He watched Suzanne walk towards the restaurant, and knew he had to find a way to warn Epps about her before he decided to take her back to his place for the night. Who knew what she would try to steal from his house when he was not looking. It’d be a lot worse than him pilfering the sergeant’s iPod now and then. 

Jazz began to plot.

IIIII

Some time later the couple emerged, and the smile on Suzanne’s face immediately started to fade. As they got back in, for the third time that day Jazz felt that he’d just gotten his whole right side kicked in by Brawl, and this time he really couldn’t help the angry rev of his engine as they drove off.

Speakers, plus a nice set of sub-woofers would be nice, he thought.

He kept a close optic on Suzanne throughout the drive and sure enough, once they hit a lonely stretch of road, she started to cozy up to the sergeant, trying to get him to pay her some attention.

“I’m trying to drive,” he said as she slipped her hands under his shirt.

“So? Pull over for a bit,” she said.

“Heh, I don’t know, I mean its late and…”. He trailed off as he felt the car start to slow and move off to the side of the road. “Alright.” He was still a little surprised that Jazz was allowing this.

Once they came to a stop, Suzanne unbuckled her seat-belt and scooted over to Epps, moving to kiss him as one hand began to move towards his left back pocket, in which he kept one of his credit cards. Just as their lips were about to meet, the overhead light came on and the radio sprang to life.

_“Hey! Hey! You! You! I don’t like your girlfriend! No way! No way! Think you need a new one!”_

Suzanne froze with her hand on his credit card as Epps pulled back and stared at her in disbelief. Before any of them could say a word, Jazz peeled off again, threw himself into a drift and a spin, and opened the driver’s side door, then braked. The sudden change in momentum was enough to dump the woman on the road in front of a brightly lit bus-stop. The radio changed station.

_“Just beat it! Beat it! Beat it! Beat it!”_

“You can't leave me here!” Suzanne cried. “How am I supposed to get home?”

Epps pulled the door shut gently, then leaned out of the window. “Take the bus.” Then he patted the steering wheel. “Lets go home, Jazz.”

The Solstice was only too happy to oblige, spinning around and blowing a cloud of exhaust at the woman as he drove off. The human was quiet for a while before he touched the steering again.

“Thanks, man,” he said softly. “I owe ya for that one.”

“Yeah, you do,” Jazz replied. Then, “You’ll find someone better next time.”

“Yeah, and maybe next time I’ll make it a double date with Will or something.” He sighed. “Are you alright? Sounded like it may have hurt you, the way she slammed your door.”

Jazz gave a bit of a car-shrug. “Nothing I can't get Ratchet to fix.” He pulled up in front of Epps’ house. “So, don’t forget: sound system, and I’m adding a couple of extra speakers and sub-woofers.”

Epps let out a defeated sigh as he got out. “You win.”

IIIII

Bumblebee was waiting when Jazz finally returned to the base later that night and he came forward as Jazz transformed, noting the slight hitch to the other’s right step as he walked towards him. He sidled up and let Jazz lean against him to take some of the weight off his right side.

“Thanks Bee,” Jazz said as they headed inside.

Bumblebee gently ran his hand along the afflicted area, trying to soothe him. “Should I ask how it went?”

“It’s a long story,” Jazz replied.

“We have all night, so how about you tell me while I give you a rub and get that soreness out of you?”

Jazz grinned then. “I think I can do that.”

 

~END.

**Author's Note:**

> Written some time in 2007, after the first Bay movie, when I was still on a Movie (Jazz/Bee) high. There was a Movie Jazz toy that came out painted in G1 colors that was an exclusive. The bio-card tells of how Ratchet somehow managed to revive Jazz who took on the new white-and-stripes paint job. I was completely fine with this slight AU, so I ran with it for a few stories, which explains why Jazz is alive here.


End file.
